Deep Waters

HE PULLED ME UP OUT OF DEEP WATERS . . . once again. It has been a week and a day since my surgery. The pain isn't too bothersome, but fatigue still lingers.

There is so much to see when you're forced to slow down. Life is glorious! What a wonderful reminder to stop and take notice. Lessons . . . they are all around us.

I find myself fighting the couch, despising the gravity that seems to pull me there. My personality never allows me to just sit. There is always something calling to me, some distraction needing my attention. Something to fold here, a corner to straighten there - all to the demise of a true introspection. I've gotten so used to keeping my own self at bay, that I've forgotten how to tap into that girl within.

I sense a new season beginning, carrying me to uncharted waters. Part of me stirs with excitement, while the rest grumbles underneath the comfort of sameness. God saved me from terrible torrent, not once but twice. There is a reason I am still here . . . what are God's plans for me? How will He use me to glorify Him?

For the next few weeks, as I work to strengthen muscles that have gone on vacation, I will nestle in close to the One who always knows best. This is a wonderful opportunity to regroup and reflect. "God grant me the clarity of heart and mind I need to move forward."

My God rescues me -- every second of my life. As I embark on this brand new adventure, I desire to spend the rest of my waking moments . . . declaring just how.

Cowboy Spurs

Today I remember a little blondie, who could always be found cowboyed up from head to toe. He had the brightest blue eyes, and could be spotted sporting a Kool-Aid moustache smile. Our Clay - he would have been eleven years old today. Seems strange, almost like time should have somehow stood still. In many ways, it has.

Our family will gather together in celebration today, with pizza, Sunny-D and mint chip ice cream. Those were Clay's favorites. The hearts who knew and loved Clay best will pause, if only for a moment, and remember what it was like when the world still seemed safe. There was a time when something as awful as losing a child was what happened to other people. Not us.

We love you Clay, today and always. Our balloons will rise as a tribute. Your life mattered to us, and it always will. We choose to still believe in miracles, knowing that healing meant heaven for you.

This day we lift our eyes to the sky, trusting that the blue balloon will in fact reach heaven . . . bursting only with the touch of a cowboy's spurs.

Ties That Bind

I wasn't going to post today . . . I have much to tell, but my comfortable bed is calling. Inspiration cried out and beat tiredness, as my heart welled with a gratefulness for the God-sized connections that have been created in the blog world.

Checking in on friends this afternoon, not through a meeting at Starbucks nor a walk through the park. I would venture to say that I never dropped a greeting card, nor did I pick up the phone. But as my eyes fell on fresh posts, I joined with friends in a deep and meaningful way - feeling connected and a part of something so much bigger than myself.

Sure, this blogging thing might prove to be just another trend - here today, gone tomorrow. But what this girl discovered through a click here and another there, is a peek into the life of somebody else who has witnessed God.

Whether through the tells of a vacation, or an update of the latest family fury - God's presence is so powerfully magnified when we tell our stories. Fellow bloggers . . . keep telling, be vulnerable, stay real and record what you can see.

For it is in the twinkling moments of life that God is witnessed. And every account recorded brings hope to all who see.